Mommy's Little Boy
by Nirianne
Summary: Being evil is awesome and all that is until your mother shows up. Oh, and ex-girlfriend too! One-shot! R&R!


**A/N:** Ah, this is a story devised by me Nirianne whose mind is lost in space. Of course, this is for my partner in crime, AquilaTempestas! I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I do! Reviews will always be appreciated!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

**Summary:** Being evil is awesome and all that is until your mother shows up. Oh, and ex-girlfriend too!

* * *

**Mommy's Little Boy**

"Furthermore…** BEGA** **WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**"

The rest of the bladers glared at Boris with disgust, clenching their fists tightly. Curses slipped under their breaths but nothing could match Boris' awful laughter. What made it worse was the microphone; the damned contraption amplified his voice to the point the entire city of Tokyo heard it. Ugh. Clueless on what to do, the bladers continued watching Boris laughing madly on the large plasma fifty foot screen outside the BEGA building.

"**WALDO!**"

Boris' laughter immediately ceased. Did… did he just hear right? With fingers remaining in their dramatic clawed position, he continued to laugh like nothing had interrupted him. And then it happened again; someone from the crowd yelled out, 'Waldo'. _What nonsense,_ the man thought concluding his trademark maniacal laughter. Slamming his fists onto the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd in hopes of locating the culprit who called out that accursed name! Ah, he was soon to be answered when the voice of an old lady erupted from the crowd of teenagers. His eyes soon fixed onto a short, stocky woman with dark purple hair tied in a tight bun.

Shoving through the crowd, the elder woman climbed onstage storming to Boris. Keeping his back straight and chest pushed out, he cleared his throat acting cool, stunning and good (yet evil) in front a sea of clueless teenagers. All eyes were on the woman who stood tall on stage with eyes fixed on Boris. Did they know each other? Funny, their facial structures look familiar… Dude, are they—?

"**WALDO!**" the woman yelled. Well, more like exploded in her thick Russian accent. "What are you doing here making an ass of yourself?"

"I'm not making an ass of myself!" Boris replied sharply, standing tall looming with authority. "I am the mighty Boris Balkov and—"

The woman knocked the side of Boris' head with the end of her cane, "Still going on about being all and mighty? Look at you; you're close to forty and **WHERE ARE MY GRANDCHILDREN?**"

The crowd below buzzed with whisper. Oh, it was all beginning to make sense now. Tyson couldn't stop from smirking. Cupping his hands around his mouth, the teen had to _share_ his thoughts.

"Yo Boris! You don't look so mighty after all!"

It really didn't help when his image was broken down by a bunch of teenagers and… his mother. Boris hung his head down listening to the insults shooting out of the mouths of teenagers. Nothing was worse than to have your mother stand before you adding fuel to the fire. Life was great, wasn't it?

Mrs. Balkov huffed, delivering another knock to the side of Boris' head, "And are you _still_ going about taking over the world with those spinning toy tops? Really Waldo,"

The crowd exploded into hysterical laughter; even the members of BEGA could not contain their laughter from this newly acquired information! Really? Waldo? Like in the game '_Where's Waldo'_? Boris Balkov's middle name was _Waldo_? Oh, this day couldn't get any better!

Mrs. Balkov stepped down from the podium, storming toward Boris and pinched his ear.

"Silly child," she muttered, shaking her head. "Come, since I'm here tour me around Tokyo."

The day did _not_ improve for Boris; he was literally dragged around town with his mother carrying all the things she bought. Every so often, he heard chuckling echoing from around him. God, this was completely humiliating! Here he was, following his mother like some kind of lap dog and adding to further insult, his badass reputation was _gone! _Diminished! Destroyed! _Annihilated! _Damn, it took _years _for him to build it up only to have it crushed within a matter of seconds. Why? In times like this, Boris wanted to go back into his office and cry.

_Why me? What did I do to deserve this?

* * *

_

The next day arrived and quite frankly, it was worse than before. He was supposed to hold another press conference to challenge Tyson to a match; winner takes all! His plans never worked out when his mother again, stormed on stage and this time, the situation went from bad to worse! _Far, far_ worse!

"Again Waldo?" Mrs. Balkov said hopelessly snatching the microphone off the microphone stand. Boris rubbed the side of his face waiting for further humility and ridicule. Bring it on. Mrs. Balkov turned to the press locking eyes with Tyson. Making the situation far worse than it already was, she said firmly, "Young man, when you grow up please do _not _be like my son here,"

Tyson could barely contain his laughter as he nodded in response. Yeah, if she thought for one second Boris Balkov was the 'ideal' role model, she was dead wrong!

Shaking her head, she adjusted her thick red framed Chanel glasses. "Look at him; he's almost forty and not married!"

She makes a great standup comedian, yes?

The corners of Tyson's mouth widened to the point it may have to be surgically repaired. "Don't worry ma'am. I'll get married _way_ before I hit forty! I'll make sure I won't follow in your son's footsteps!"

Oh the look on Boris' face was priceless! Anybody got a camera? This must be uploaded on YouTube!

"Good boy!" Mrs. Balkov praised. Turning to her son, she sighed aloud. "I guess I have no choice, Waldo."

"What?"

"Since you haven't got yourself a wife, I found one for you."

The crowd erupted into a wave of 'Oooh' and 'Ahhhs'. They began to wonder who the lucky lady was to wed _the_ Boris 'Waldo' Balkov! Oh the suspense!

Mrs. Balkov placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Boris' stomach fell to the soles of his feet. Any moment now, the bride of his dreams would show up and—

"Boris darling!"

Boris froze; he recognized that voice anywhere! He swore never again to see her! Slowly turning around, he was face to face with the woman from when he ran away from years ago! Standing there in full on makeup and covered in pink was Boris' _first_ (and last) date from his high school days back in the seventies.

"Hello Boris," the woman said sweetly inching toward him in her pink, sparkly heels. From the looks of it, her wardrobe was frozen in time. Gosh, what a sight! "Remember when you were supposed to propose to me?"

"N-No!"

"Remember we were supposed to make babies together?"

"**DEAR LORD NO!**"

"Didn't you say you wanted to do—"

And she switched into Russian. The Japanese teens and the press below couldn't understand a word they were saying… unless if you understood Russian. Over to the side, the Blitzkrieg Boy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets just over hearing the uncensored information. Excusing themselves, they were going to hang themselves as a reminder to never, ever listen to adult conversations ever again. Ever. Period.

Going back to Boris, his skin turned a shade paler after listening from his bride to be. Swallowing hard, even he too, was scarred for life.

Switching to broken English she said, "Let's get married and make babies!"

"**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**"

He leapt off the stage, slicing through the crowd like butter. Wailing like a baby (or like a child scarred for life), he disappeared around the corner never to be seen again. His bride to be followed him, calling out all the pet names she gave him! On stage, Mrs. Balkov shook her head; mommy's little boy still needed to do a lot of growing up if he wanted to succeed in life. Of course, that excluded being President of some spinning top company which clearly should be for children and teenagers, not for fully grown man whose ambition was to take over the world!


End file.
